#it smells mostly like his pumpkin spice perfume and slightly like his just his scent his his scent i--

[transbunnyboi]

hey guys it would be a VERY bad idea to get his sweater he left here and smell it right? That would be a very bad thing to do, right? Right? I shouldn't do that, right? Right?

[slutforben]

creepypasta scent headcanons

warning: they're stinky.

im kidding i love them too much to make them stinky little assholes these characters literally raised me throughout elementary and middle school

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jeff: okay ive said this before but jeff doesn't smell that bad. maybe a little bit of body odor and cigarettes but other than that he keeps up with smelling good. he's got a strong rose shampoo and bath and body works is his shit. he smothers himself in lotion after his two hour long shower. he's a man with a mission; he just wants to smell good.

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ben: honestly ben probably doesn't smell that bad either. you know that smell when to just wake up and you can like smell your body and hair but not any body odor? that's what he smells like; just human body and hair. that, as well as a mix of different body odors, probably more masculine ones but there's some feminine ones in the mix. also it smells like rain. the good rain too not the gross warm rain smell; he smells like cool, fresh rain.

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toby: toby smells good! he puts a lot of effort into smelling good cause he hates smelling like sweat and grossness from his work. he has a routine he does everyday and night that consists of lotions, body scrubs, perfumes, room sprays, hair sprays; literally anything that'll just make him smell good. he just smells expensive. and like fall scents; you know like apple, pumpkin spice, fresh baked bread, stuff like that. toby smells the best out of anyone.

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slenderman: imagine the dark academia aesthetic and then mix in a little bit of blood and highly toxic chemicals; that's slender's smell. black coffee, an old library, clean cats that just came inside, clean forests; stuff like that. also there's a hint of death on him but that's only if you get too close to him. no one really knows why; maybe is because he's basically a death omen deity thing that lives in the forest and eats people. wonderful.

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masky: masky smells like laundry detergent, cigarettes, and kinda like expense cushions. like high quality cushions in like really really expensive restaurants. he just smells clean mostly but there's a hint of body odor and then an overwhelming wave of cigarettes and massive amounts of regret.

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hoodie: hoodie? okay in my head he smells like nothing; like he's just a plain dude with a totally plain job and life. yeah totally. if i had to assign him a smell it would be fresh water. hoodies kinda boring smell wise but atleast he doesn't stink. maybe he smells a little bit like wood too. yeah probably

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x-virus: cody smells like cleaning chemicals, cinnamon, and this expensive perfume that smells like a rainy night. the smell im imagining reminds of the movie " a nightmare before christmas " if that's makes any sense. kinda... halloweenie... BOO!

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jane: jane spends way too much money on lotions and perfumes and smell-good things; her collection rivals toby's. this woman will literally dedicate an entire paycheck to just candles and perfumes like it's nothing. honestly i see her smelling very floral; maybe rose? not lavender but if i sat next to her, id think rose and sunny day. so just fresh? yeah she smells fresh and floral

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clockwork: in my mind, natalie smells like ash, laundry detergent, earthy scents, and masculine deodorant; she basically just smells like a lumberjack lmao

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nina: i can see nina enjoying really strong fruity and floral scents; like really really strong you'll get a headache if you're around her too long. i imagine her smelling like really strong mango, dry shampoo, peppermint, and any really strong tropical smell.

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sally: sally probably smells fine; i can see her just smelling like any other young girl; cheap body sprays, play-doh, and apple juice; but i also like to imagine her smelling like caramel and a library as well.

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eyeless jack: jack smells very nice and clean; he smells like a mix of cleaning chemicals, cat fur, rainy woods, and coffee. also he sometimes smells like saliva cause he licks himself but that's okay. also his mouth smells like a rotten decaying corpse; don't get too close unless you want your nose to stop working.

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laughing jack: in my opinion jack just smells like peppermint tea, caramel, and cyanide. also his hair is either really greasy and gross or it's clean for once - once in a blue moon this man's gross.

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lost silver: i feel like if i sat down next to silver and smelled him, my nose would get physically cold and start bleeding from the temperature change. idk he just smells cold if that makes sense.

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rex: she smells like a car engine, whiskey, and ash. fuckers been playing around in the woods unsupervised too much; okay but seriously she smells like a middle aged alcoholic but just not as bad. only slightly. like 40% and then 30% is like forest and good food. the other 30% is similar to lost silver; just cold.

[simplyotometrash]

What They Smell Like

Lucifer:

He smells like a professional man. 

Mixed with a dad.

So that earthy, old spice smell.

Which honestly isn’t terrible. He doesn’t want to smell strongly of his cologne, not like a teenager.

Just a hint of his cologne. 

Enough that the air can waft it your way with a gentle breeze or when you’re close to him.

The earthy smell is very much like cedar or pine trees. It’s very pleasant imo.

And of course the classic dad smell of old spice. 

Which is actually not bad. The classic is nice. It’s everything else old spice I find to be too much.

Mammon:

Mammon doesn’t want to smell nice like Asmo smells nice. And he doesn’t want to smell like Lucifer.

Mammon wants to smell rich.

That’s important to him.

His cologne is much stronger than Lucifer’s but not in a bad way.

He likes that pumpkin smell.

A spiced pumpkin smell.

When you think of autumn, that’s what he smells like.

Crisp air, falling leaves, warm apple cider, and pumpkin spice.

He smells so nice. 

Sometimes there’s a hint of coffee in the mix because I think of Mammon as a coffee addict. 

Levi:

Classic gamer smell is what you think, right?

Well, you aren’t totally wrong.

There is a salty and sweet smell to him from copious amounts of caffeine and potato chips.

But the salty scent is more of an ocean smell. He smells of the sea.

But I also think he’s insecure about how he smells. He doesn’t want to smell like a shut-in otaku.

He totally buys any Ruri-chan brand colognes, no matter what the smell. And he will wear them proudly. 

But his typical smell is a sweet and salty combo. Unless it’s Ruri-chan, he doesn’t wear cologne. 

Sometimes there’s a hint of sweat smell if he has been locked up in his room on a nonstop binge of a game or anime.

Satan:

He also wants to smell vastly different from Lucifer.

He’d rather die.

He isn’t a big cologne wearing guy, honestly.

Satan just naturally smells nice.

Like a brand new book.

You know that amazing new book smell? Yeah, that’s what he smells of.

Also, he slightly smells of fresh linens. 

But mostly the book smell.

Oh! Better yet, he smells like a library.

Libraries, to me, have such a nice smell. The smell of books are amazing. 

He just smells of a books.

Not a dusty library.

A library that is loving cared for and the books tended to.

Asmo:

Asmodeus would rather smell like Mammon than smell like generic perfume.

He isn’t a wearer of cologne. He wears expensive perfume.

But it isn’t rose or some hoity toity smell.

And nothing too strong. Stronger smells can be overwhelming and unpleasant. Asmo wants to smell pleasant. Mostly for himself. After all, he has to smell himself all day long.

A soft, sweet scent.

Vanilla and fresh strawberries would be his go-to. And not super artificial, headache inducing vanilla.

His vanilla is light and subtle. It is an accent to the smell of strawberry. 

It’s probably his favorite perfume.

Sometimes he likes a light, refreshing orange smell. 

But sometimes he goes with something more like jasmine or honeysuckle. 

Lightly sweet and fragrant but not so strong that you want to escape it.

While he has a range of perfumes in his bathroom, his go-to is always vanilla and strawberry.

Beelzebub:

You would expect a strong food and sweat smell, right?

Wrong!

Beel only smells sweaty if he has been working out. He takes care not to stink, you know. He knows sweat can smell awful. He changes in a locker room with an entire team of sweaty demon men after all. 

His natural scent is on the muskier side. 

He, like Lucifer, likes a woodsy smelling cologne.

He doesn’t go too heavy on it, just enough to mask any other smells.

He smells like the forest after it has been raining.

Everything smells so fresh and earthy, a bit musky.

After always hearing comments about how he is constantly eating, he doesn’t want to smell like food. 

He doesn’t need to hear his brothers talk about that, too.

His cologne isn’t expensive or anything. Not that he’s aware of. 

He didn’t even know what to buy before. He complained about how he smelled through his deodorant, so Belphie picked out a cologne for him as a gift.

Belphegor:

Fresh laundry. Belphie loves the smell of fresh laundry, he can’t really sleep if his blankets and pillows don’t smell fresh.

So, naturally, he smells like fresh laundry. 

Belphie also smells of lavender, chamomile, and honey.

A very soothing smell.

I headcanon it’s his favorite type of tea because it relaxes him, so it’s also his favorite smell.

If you were to be cuddled up with him, you’d be able to sleep peacefully he smells so nice.

And it isn’t even a cologne. He’s not embarrassed by the fact he bought perfume. If he likes the smell then he likes the smell.

Asmo was the one who pointed it out one day, saying Belphie would like something like that.

It isn’t strong. It’s a gentle smell that you could almost not notice unless you got close enough to him.

[outlikethat]

scent: slumberhouse mond

so apparently the full bottles of this have already sold out twice on luckyscent. I barely managed to get my extortionately priced (with exchange and canadian shipping) tiny dabber sample. and am wearing it today. notes (as quoted from josh lobb’s somewhat florid original account, I believe) are an olfactory electuary properly anointed with honey, rubescent spices (whatever those might be), morello cherry and sapwood, quarender apple peel, accords of mavrodaphne and marchpane, chicory, pipe tobacco casing tincture (amaretto, plum, vanilla), balsam incarnadine, pillowy amber notes, sandalwood, raspberry, guaiacwood, foin coupe bordeaux accord (wat???), pumpkin and cream.

it’s nice enough, although “nice” is not really what I look for in my slumberhouse. I’ve seen comparisons to “yankee candle”, which honestly is fair. certainly one would expect more from something described as “an olfactory electuary”. what it mostly smells like (shoves nose into arm) (I’m also wearing it, but I’ve put some on the dear old left forearm for easy analysis) is sova, heavily diluted with cream, with the addition of just a touch of a kind of sweet heaviness I associate with baque. a honeyed kind of vanilla/pipe tobacco/balsam, mellow and slightly rounded. there’s maybe a kind of traditional german holiday spice cookie vibe? I’m not getting much, if any, of the alleged fruits (which is great, frankly, there are very few fruity perfumes I truly enjoy)

though I love baque and sova and have full bottles of both, I find them somewhat... situational fragrances; they absolutely cannot be worn in hot weather or if I think I’m going to sweat, because they get utterly oppressive, and even on a normal day, they’re constantly and gently insistent, and I never forget I’m wearing them. they’re dense and enfolding and sweet and warm all in themselves. and sova in particular has a powerful dark raw honey sharpness.

so on the face of it, a diluted, creamy sova with a little bump of baque doesn’t sound like a bad thing. in practice, though, it’s kind of whatever, and very holiday smells at the mall. it also doesn’t last very long. I cheated and wore it once before, and it was gone by noon, which... slumberhouse? rly? and I checked, and sniffed the clothes I wore in case I’d just gone noseblind, and no, it was just gone. (generally, if you wear a slumberhouse, you will wear it faintly again in those clothes until you wash them or have them cleaned, which is another thing I’m conscious of with regards to sova and baque and garments like blazers or coats.)

so in short, nice, and maybe a great slumberhouse for all the many people I’ve seen say, of other slumberhouses, “it’s probably great but what an OVERWHELMING BEAST I couldn’t POSSIBLY wear this in public this fragrance is really CHALLENGING,” which despite what I said above of sova and baque I have never really found myself.

it’s probably a good thing I’m not that crazy about it. honestly I didn’t love sadanne and hated zahd when I tried them, and didn’t even bother with new sibet, or sixes and sevens (and wasn’t paying enough attention to hear about fjerne when it happened). besides which the “surprise drops” and instant sellouts are tiresome hypebeast nonsense, AND the scents are about to be unaffordable as well as unobtainable; josh lobb is discontinuing the 30mL bottles in favour of only 50mL, which are going to sell for $260! (USD!).

ahahahahaha sour grapes much? I mean kinda I guess? it’s less about the unobtainium aspect and more about the style, though. you know when an author you loved and followed for years suddenly does an about-face and starts writing weird... christian fictional parables or something? that mid-period slumberhouse was and is so exactly what I love and adore, and I hoped josh would keep making more magnificent, magical things and I’d love each one. but his creative focus has shifted into things I’m honestly not that interested in or excited about.

but there really isn’t anyone else? my tastes are so specific, and in combination with all the various annoying allergies and sensitivities, my fragrance requirements are thereby so constrained, that everything else, even when it sounds like something I’d enjoy, is actually a crapshoot of “maybe? or maybe they’ll have used one of the things that makes my throat close and I’ll be tossing it and scrubbing nearby surfaces with alcohol”.

oh. but. remember “red grev”, which I mentioned a while ago? it was a hoax. josh made it up. got to admit that is pretty funny.

(image id: a screenshot of instagram desktop from the @slumberhouse account with a lot of fragrance ramblings in white text on a black background; pertinent excerpt: “Lastly, The whole “Red Grev” thing was a joke (the image was simply water + red dye). Some of you seemed suspicious and vaguely aware that it was a bit of misdirection, but I mostly just wanted to keep Mond a secret til the last second. So yes, for those waiting for a Red Grev, it doesn’t exist (be thankful, it probably would’ve singed nose hairs and caused instant brain freeze).”

[galxcs]

Drunken Nights

Link to AO3

Chapter Nine (Eight) (Seven) (Six) (Five) (Four) (Three) (Two) (One)

The beginning of the year went by extraordinarily fast (like every year), and Christmas was approaching in just a couple weeks. James and Peter were bustling around the room excitedly, practically speaking over each other as they told of the exciting breaks they were going to have.

Peter was going to Ireland with his family and was mostly excited because he was going to see some professional Quidditch games. James was going to stay in a wizard resort as a celebration for his father getting a promotion at work.

Remus was having a hard time listening to the boys rambling because somewhere deep in his skin he could feel the moon tugging at him, a reminder of the full moon that was to come that night. It felt like Remus and the moon were two magnets being held close to each other, never touching, but always connected by some unseen force.

His skin itched, and he had a queasy feeling in his stomach from not eating all day. He tried to get his mind off of it, but nothing that he thought about could keep him from eventually returning to the numerous memories he had of his skin painfully changing into the monster that he was.

He felt worse than he had in a really long time, and he tried to swallow his feelings, drowning in his thoughts and the pain that was consuming his mind. He felt like a dam about to burst, and so he tried to glue the dam back together, sitting still, and forcing his head to stop thinking.

Remus held his breath, feeling like if he let himself even breathe, something would come spilling out. His heart was pounding hard against his chest, and he felt dizzy from the panic attack that he was trying to contain.

Sirius was laying on his stomach, his legs kicked in the air next to Remus on his bed. He had been awfully quiet during James and Peter’s conversation, and Remus wished they would stop talking. While Peter and James were going on vacation, Sirius would have to return home, and things were worse than usual with his parents at the moment.

Sirius was playing some muggle card game by himself that Remus thought he had seen his mom playing once. His hair had grown out since the day his parents had cut it and was curling softly around his ears. Remus watched his hands picking up and flipping cards instead of thinking about how he could smell every single scent in the room thanks to the wolf. It was a good distraction; watching Sirius.

As if Sirius could sense Remus watching him, he turned his head around, looking at where Remus was leaning against the headboard. Sirius didn’t say anything; he just stared at Remus like he always did, so Remus stayed back, waiting for him to say something.

Sirius sat up, ruining his game, and flipped around so that he was leaning against the headboard also. Remus could feel Sirius’ shoulder pressed against his, and wondered if Sirius would be able to feel how tense he was, just from the set of his shoulders.

“How are you feeling?” Sirius asked quietly.

Remus couldn’t tell if he was being quiet so that James and Peter wouldn’t hear, or because he was trying not to interrupt the conversation that they were still having about their trips.

He shrugged, his shoulder pressing even closer against Sirius. “M’fine.”

Remus already felt like he was going to cry, and Sirius had barely said anything to him.

“Fine?” Sirius said, his gray eyes boring into Remus’ side.

“Yeah, fine,” Remus repeated, clenching his teeth against a particularity painful tug at his stomach, like the moon was already trying to claim him. He tried to avoid Sirius’ gaze, keeping his eyes trained on his lap.

“Bullshit,” Sirius scoffed. “I can see the way you’re sitting. It’s worse than usual isn’t it?”

Remus let out a sigh. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“I know you can handle it, Moony. I just don’t appreciate you lying and saying that you’re fine when you obviously aren’t.”

“If you already knew the answer, then why did you even ask?” Remus asked feeling irritated.

He wasn’t actually mad, it was just easier to argue with Sirius than think about what was going to happen that night. Sirius gave Remus a cold stare, his shoulders tensing against Remus just as much as Remus’ were. He looked like he was going to say something, but he was stopped by James.

“You two coming? We’re going to the Great Hall.” Peter and James were by the door, looking at Sirius and Remus.

“Yeah, coming,” Remus said weakly.

“Give us a few minutes. We’ll meet you guys there in a bit,” Sirius said, laying his hand on Remus’ arm to keep him from getting up.

Remus narrowed his eyes at Sirius, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sounds good, see ya there,” James said, giving them a little salute before leaving the room, Peter in tow.

Once they were completely gone, Sirius’ face grew much warmer than it had been a second ago, and he looked at Remus sincerely.

“Talk to me,” he said, almost pleadingly.

Remus let out a shaky breath, finally giving in, and leaned down so that he could rest his head on Sirius’ shoulder. Almost immediately, Sirius brought his hand up, combing through Remus’ hair gently with his fingers. It was something that he had started doing recently whenever they were near each other, and Remus couldn’t complain.

“I’m just so tired,” Remus finally said.

“Do you want to take a nap? I can bring you up some food for when you wake up,” Sirius offered, his fingers grazing behind Remus’ ear.

“No, not like that. I’m tired.”

Sirius’ fingers faltered, but after a moment, he continued, brushing a piece of hair back that had fallen in Remus’ face. It reminded him so much of that night more than a month ago that Sirius had pushed him against the wall and kissed him. It almost hurt to think about just as much as the pain Remus was feeling at the moment.

“I’m tired of all of it,” Remus continued. “I’m tired of feeling like this every month. I’m tired of the fear. I feel like this werewolf thing isn’t just once every month because I’m constantly thinking about it, constantly dreaming of it, and constantly worrying about when it will come again. It haunts me in the mornings, at school, at night, when I’m with friends. It’s all the time.

“And then there’s the fact that ever since I started getting older, I’ve been able to smell things and hear things that I didn’t used to be able to, which sounds cool in theory, but it’s so overwhelming, Sirius. I can’t think or concentrate anymore. Sometimes I find myself scrambling to remember what a professor said because I was focused on the sounds outside the door or sick from the scent of the girls perfume who sits next to me.”

“Who’s perfume?” Sirius asked.

“The perfume doesn’t matter,” Remus muttered. “What matters is that I’m tired of feeling like a nuisance all the time. I’m so thankful for you all. You becoming animagus for me was the greatest thing that anyone has ever done, but lately I feel like it’s just a fun night for James and Peter, and I know that you all care, and I know that I’m just being a big baby about it, but it’s not fun for me, and I hate that you even do this for me. I’m not scared for just the transformation. I keep having these dreams where I wake up and you’re all,” Remus choked on his words, tears escaping his eyes, “you’re all dead, and it’s my fault.”

Remus didn’t realize that he was shaking until he was finished talking. Sometime while he was speaking, he had turned against Sirius so that Sirius was hugging him, Remus’ face buried in Sirius’ neck. Sirius was brushing his back gently with his fingertips, and Remus could feel his tears soaking into Sirius’ dark shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed.

Remus could feel Sirius move his fingers back to his hair, tightening there in a way that should have been painful but was more grounding.

“Don’t apologize for letting yourself feel,” Sirius said. Remus had heard many different types of pain in Sirius’ voice before, but this one was new.

Remus wrapped his arms tighter around Sirius, feeling himself sob against him. “I’m tired of being like this.”

“Like what?” Sirius whispered.

“Like a monster.” Remus responded, his lips brushing against Sirius’ neck from how he was burrowed against him.

“You are not a monster, Remus.” Sirius responded, that pain that Remus heard earlier back in his voice.

Sirius pulled away from Remus, keeping one of his hands tucked around his back, his thumb brushing against his hip. He brought his other hand to Remus’ chin, tipping his head up so that Remus would meet his eyes.

“You’re not,” he said, brushing tears away from Remus’ eyes with his thumb.

“Why not? All the textbooks say I am,” Remus muttered, his voice breaking with the pain that he had been trying to hold in for so long. “All the students would say I am, and their parents, and the Ministry.”

“Because I know you.” Sirius said, searching Remus’ eyes. “You’re favorite season is fall because you love carving pumpkins and drinking spiced teas. You sleep curled up against anything warm because you’re always so damn cold. You wish on every single shooting star that you see, no matter what. You wear sweaters every day because they’re warm, and you like being able to pull your hands into the sleeves. If anyone compliments you, you’re entire face turns red. You smile every time you hear someone laugh, even if it’s someone you don’t know.”

Sirius tipped Remus’ head back so that he was looking at him because Remus had ducked it again, unable to look Sirius in the eye. Sirius searched Remus’ eyes, his thumb absently tracing up Remus’ jaw, and Remus held his breath.

“I know you,” Sirius whispered. “And you’re everything that’s good in this world.”

Remus didn’t know when their faces had gotten so close together, but he could feel Sirius’ breath against his face, and could count each of Sirius’ dark eyelashes. Sirius’ hands trembled for a second against Remus’ face, and Remus leaned in just slightly.

That was all that it took for Sirius to lean forward, closing the gap between them.

He kissed Remus softly, sucking away a teardrop that had fallen onto Remus’ lips. He brought both of his hands up to cup Remus’ face, his fingers burying themselves in his hair.

Remus sat frozen, unable to move. Here was Sirius in front of him, kissing away his tears, his hands holding him up so gently, and Remus didn’t want to care about the consequences for a second. He wanted to feel how he felt the night of the party. For once, he didn’t want to feel tired, and he didn’t have the energy to hold back anymore.

He returned the kiss, leaning closer against Sirius, and tucking his hands against Sirius’ chest. The moment that Remus returned the kiss, Sirius breathed out a sigh into Remus’ mouth, his hand grabbing onto Remus’ hip, pulling him closer against his chest.

Remus felt dizzy with emotions. With each kiss, he felt a little less broken, and for once he wasn’t thinking about the moon that was tugging just under his skin, or the night that was ahead of him, or the pain in his stomach. He lost himself in their kiss, letting Sirius tip him down so that his back was against the mattress with Sirius laying propped up on his elbows above him.

Sirius broke away to kiss down Remus’ neck, and Remus tipped his head back, his breath catching in his throat as Sirius stopped to suck at the skin over his pulse. Remus buried one of his hands in Sirius’ hair, his other hand trailing up Sirius’ back. He felt Sirius groan against his neck, pulling away, so he could return back to Remus’ mouth, kissing him with a newfound intensity.

Sirius swallowed Remus’ soft gasp, biting gently at his lip. His hand moved to Remus’ stomach, his fingers grazing the hem of Remus’ shirt. Remus flinched away from Sirius’ fingers, burying himself against the mattress, and his hand tightening on Sirius’ shoulder.

“I’ve seen your scars, Remus,” Sirius whispered above him, his fingers still playing with the hem of his shirt.

Remus nodded, letting out a shaky breath, and pulled Sirius back to his mouth. Sirius obliged, slowly slipping his hand under Remus’ shirt. His palm was like a hot weight against Remus’ skin, tracing up over the scars that Remus had been so careful to hide.

It was dizzying, the way that Sirius could touch him and make him feel like everything was on fire. Or maybe it was just him that was on fire, burning under Sirius’ mouth. If this was what it felt like to be set aflame, Remus would light the match himself.

Remus arched against Sirius, feeling as though he couldn’t get close enough. The movement made Sirius moan against his lips, which sent a shiver down Remus’ spine, and Sirius’ hand tightened in his hair. Sirius pressed closer to Remus, letting some of his weight fall against his side, one leg tucked between Remus’ knees, so that Sirius could continue running his hand along the planes of Remus’ chest.

Remus had never felt anything like these kisses before. He had never felt the heat that was pooling deep in his stomach, or the desperate feeling that was radiating off of every touch of Sirius’ lips against his, and every slide of Sirius’ hand against his skin.

There was a moment when all Remus could hear was the beautiful sound of their breaths intertwining. Remus was falling so far down, that there was no way back up again. He felt himself wrapping a leg around Sirius, wanting to keep him there against him for as long as possible. Sirius made a sound in the back of his throat, and his breathing picked up, hot and heavy against Remus’ mouth. He reached down and dragged his hand up Remus’ thigh, pulling away and burying his face against Remus’ neck.

“Remus, I—” he started, his voice low and filled with wanting.

Sirius didn’t get to finish his sentence because somewhere deep in the back of Remus’ brain, his ear picked up on a loud noise outside the hallway, and Remus shoved Sirius off him, pulling his shirt down over his stomach. Sirius looked dazed and confused as Remus scrambled into a sitting position, looking towards the door.

Just then, James and Peter entered the room laughing.

“You two just missed my best prank of the year!” James exclaimed, not yet looking at Remus and Sirius. “We had to come back early because of it.”

Remus could feel Sirius looking at him out of the corner of his vision, but he kept his eyes carefully on James. James jumped onto Remus’ bed, right between him and Sirius, and Remus was thankful for the separation.

“So there I was, minding my own business,” James started.

Remus never actually heard what the prank was because although he nodded along, trying to keep his face looking neutral, his mind was racing with thoughts of what had just happened. He could still feel Sirius’ touch lingering on his skin, and could see Sirius continuously trying to get Remus’ attention as James talked, but Remus avoided his gaze.

When James was done with his story, Remus got up, and quickly left the room, muttering something about finding some food, even though the last thing he wanted to do was eat. He waited around the corner, knowing that Sirius would follow him, and he watched Sirius race out of the room, heading down the stairs quickly, unknowing that Remus was behind him.

Once a few minutes had passed, Remus decided the coast was clear, and rushed down the stairs, leaving the common room, and making his way down the halls. He hadn’t known where he was headed until suddenly his feet had carried him to the library.

He must have known internally that this was where he needed to be because a wave of calm washed through him. The weight that had been clouding his head ever since James and Peter had interrupted him and Sirius suddenly cleared, and Remus felt like he could finally breathe.

There was an isle of books that had a table hidden slightly in an alcove that Remus always went to when he needed to hide, and he found his feet carrying himself there on their own. He walked down the narrow space between the two shelves, trailing his fingers over dusty book bindings.

When he got to the end where the alcove was, he noticed a pair of feet kicked up on the only chair that was visible. He peaked around the corner and wasn’t expecting Amanda to glance up from the book she was reading. For some reason, Remus was happy to see a friend right now. He thought it might be a good distraction.

“Remus!” Amanda said brightly, taking her feet down from the chair so he could sit.

“Hey, you stole my alcove,” Remus joked, sitting down across from her.

“You’re alcove,” she said, feigning shocked annoyance. “I’ll have you know I’ve been coming here since third year.”

“Ha, I’ve been coming since first year,” Remus countered.

Amanda sighed, a smile tugging at her lips. “Okay, you win.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt you. I can find somewhere else,” Remus offered, hoping beyond hope that she would let him stay or else Remus would have to think about things that he wasn’t ready to think about yet.

“No! Stay,” Amanda beamed. “I was just doing fun reading, so you’re not interrupting anything.”

Remus and Amanda talked for a while. It was good to talk to somebody who wasn’t a Marauder. He loved them to death, but he forgot how nice it was to pretend like he didn’t have any problems. He could just talk about dumb things like visiting Diagon Alley, or how the Charms professor had his mustache accidentally burned off by a student.

As they talked, Remus’ ears slowly cleared of sound. Less students were ambling down isles and dropping books. There wasn’t anymore librarians talking in hushed tones to confused first years who still hadn’t learned where anything was. Remus could feel that it was getting later, and dread started to settle in. He was just thinking about what excuse he could give Amanda for why he needed to leave when a loud sound cut through the the stillness of the library.

“Remus!” James’ voice rang over the bookshelves.

Remus snapped his head up, almost jumping at the sound of his name so loud.

“You in here?”

There was a loud ruckus and Remus could hear a librarian scolding him.

“You better go see what James wants,” Amanda said, trying to stifle her laughter.

Remus agreed, scooting his chair back, and getting ready to find James, but then his ears picked up on a whispered conversation that James was having.

“Guess he’s not here,” James whispered.

“You didn’t even give him time to come,” Remus picked out Peter’s voice saying.

“Here, if he’s in here, I know where he is,” Sirius mumbled to the point where even with his werewolf hearing, Remus almost couldn’t tell what he had said.

Remus jumped to his feet, wondering if he could make it to the main part of the library before they got back where he was. For some reason, he didn’t want them to see that he was with Amanda. Especially not Sirius.

He was too late, though, because as he was saying his goodbyes quickly to Amanda, he turned around to see James, Peter and Sirius. James looked like he usually did. Excited to have found Remus, his eyes shining with mischief, and his hair sticking up in every direction. Peter looked bored, his eyes wandering lazily over the book titles. Remus’ eyes landed discreetly on Sirius. He was standing in a way that Remus had never in his entire life seen him stand.

Uncomfortably.

He had his hands folded in front of him, messing with his fingers. His knee was bent, and his shoulders were slightly tucked inwards. There was a black piece of hair falling in his face. Sirius looked up, meeting his gaze, and Remus quickly turned, looking at James.

“Did you really have to shout my name?” Remus asked.

“Nope,” James responded. Remus saw the moment James’ eye caught on Amanda who was sitting behind them. His eyes lit up and he leaned around Remus. “Hi Amanda!” He said excitedly.

“Shhh,” Peter hushed, glancing over his shoulder. Remus assumed he didn’t want another scolding from the librarian.

“Hi, James,” Amanda returned, offering a little wave.

“I hate to take Moony here away from you, but we have Marauders business to attend to,” James explained.

Amanda shrugged. “It’s fine, as long as you return him in one piece,” she joked.

“Ha… ha ha.” James said awkwardly. Remus saw Sirius’ shoulders visibly tense at her choice of wording. “No promises.”

And then James was tugging Remus away, waiting until they were out of earshot to turn on Remus. “I was going to be mad at you because we’re cutting it a bit close, and you really went AWOL on us, but I forgive you now. I too have a lady who I cannot stop thinking about, and I understand your need to hang out with Amanda, even if it is on a night like this.”

Remus could almost feel the negative energy radiating off of Sirius. “James, we were just talking.”

“Oh, okay. You were just talking.”

“No we weren’t talking. We were talking. She’s just my friend, so can you please let it be?”

“What were you talking about?” Sirius muttered, his voice cold. He lifted his eyes to look at Remus, and they were the dark gray color that set Remus on edge.

Remus knew what Sirius was referring to, and he was shocked he would even think Remus would tell Amanda about it. He wouldn’t even tell Lily about it if he had the chance.

“Just stupid stuff,” Remus responded.

“We don’t have time for this,” Peter reminded them.

It was good too because by the time they all made it outside, squashed under James’ invisibility cloak, the sky was already getting dark.

Remus felt his legs getting weaker as they headed towards the shrieking shack. This was the most surreal moment of the full moon. When he had to force himself to just keep walking, force himself closer to where he would change and become the wolf. He didn’t know how he even got there sometimes. He just kept putting one shaky leg in front of the other, trying not to think about it. Eventually, they would make it there, standing at the base of the Whomping Willow.

Once they got far enough away from the castle, the boys tugged off the cloak, and the still night air blasted Remus in the face. Peter transformed into Wormtail, and as they were standing there, a sharp pain shot through Remus’ arm. He forced himself not to cry out, knowing there would be plenty of that to come, and he let himself look up at the moon.

He rarely looked at it, but for some reason he had an urge that he couldn’t help. For something so bright, the moon sure had a dark sense of humor. It’s light cast down on them, and Remus pretended that he could feel the light of the moon soaking into his skin. Maybe he could feel it because another sharp pain shot through his arm.

With a sense of urgency in his voice, he looked up at Sirius and James. “It’s starting.”

The boys helped him down to the shack, and it wasn’t long before the light of the moon was mixing with the sound of Remus’ cries, and then the sound of a wolf howling a painful song deep into the once still night.

Remus didn’t remember anything the next morning.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @Gdfisterek!

Read on AO3

*****

A Sweater Curse

There was a package at his doorstep. A simple lump of brown paper, tied with red ribbon and holding a "Happy Birthday" card.

But... it was Christmas Eve morning and his actual birthday wasn’t until Christmas.

Derek took the little, lumpy package and set under his tree. Yes, he had a tree, thank you very much, and he had a small hope that some of Scott's pack, Isaac, or maybe Stiles, would show up at some point during the holidays. Nobody, aside from the Hales, celebrated Christmas Eve anymore. For most people, it was just the evening before Christmas, time for a big dinner, a party with friends. The whole pack was now in Scott's home... but not Derek and Peter. After Mexico, nothing was normal anymore. Derek really thought that only things that kept them from going feral were Derek's "evolved" status and their steady anchors. Almost a pack of two. The most pack two Omegas can make.

For the Hales, Christmas Eve was a big event. The whole family gathered in the packhouse, everybody busy with cooking, helping, cleaning, preparing the tree, wrapping the gifts. Buzz and joy. Even Peter would lose some of his cutting sarcasm and help Talia with their mother’s secret recipes, smiling softly and joining in with easy sibling banter.

Now? Now Peter was all cutting edges and a sharp, poisonous tongue. They tried to avoid each other on Christmas Eve. Only the next day, Derek's birthday, would Peter come, a little spooked, eyes red, hands shaking, and they just would sit and stare at the TV screen, hoping that something would happen. Something that would relieve them from this annual duty.  

Thinking about it...

Derek took his lumpy present and opened it.

Between the sheets of brown paper was a mostly green, old, ugly sweater. Worn, clumsily patched, with mismatched buttons, some of the colors faded, some brightly new.

And that smell...

Burned sugar and pumpkin spice. Rain in the forest. Dark, smooth scent of earth with powdery notes of bark. Sunny, shiny resin, like amber, like whiskey eyes.  Stiles.

Gunpowder and leather. Sunburned sand and pepper. Sheriff.

Sour, acidic scent of sweat. Sharp note of medicine. Old people?

Little touches of perfume. Flowery. Light. Like mother’s smiles. Like lover’s kisses. Claudia?

The warm melody of wool danced with a high note of cotton, blending smoothly, dancing together like seasoned dancers, intertwined forever and always.

Why would Stiles give him an old sweater?

Light green patches over the elbows were the oldest. Smelled flowery and of aged greens, almost like dried herbs. Three red dots over the heart smelled like Stiles pain and Sheriff's blood, but also like love and hope. And it almost made Derek shift and run to Stilinskis, to see with his own eyes that both of them were alive and healthy.

His feelings for Stiles were easy - he loved that boy. Simple, easy, hidden.

Derek moved his fingers over the cobalt blue patch near the left pocket. Clumsy. Bumpy. Uneven. It seemed like a child's work. But it smelled mostly with gunpowder and leather, so Sheriff had palmed that one often.

It was like a story. Every patch, each button, even the seams told him a story about... the Stilinskis. Even if he had no idea what this is about, Derek decided that it's a solid evening plan - reading a sweater.

Derek stood at the Stilinskis front door and hesitated. He had spent the whole night chasing the small smells and aromas on this map of emotions, he tried to write stories, simple, easy stories about... love, but the only thing he could think of, the one thing he kept coming back to, was impossible. Stiles couldn't. Stiles didn't. Just no.

And yet. Derek stood here wearing that ugly sweater and grasping at a small, teeny tiny hope. He knocked.  

"Ah, Derek, seems like I won that burger. Thank you." Sheriff smiled mischievously and slightly raised voice. "Stiles, you have a guest. I WON THAT BURGER, SON! Go, Derek, he's hiding in his room."

Small steps. Small. Little steps. First - never try to understand a Stilinski, they are super alien species and they don't think like human (or werewolf, Derek, his inner Stiles voice added) beings. Second - stairs. There were stairs, one, then another, then there was door vis a vis Claudia's portrait. It was beautiful, she was beautiful. The same golden eyes, freckles and this warm smile. The smile loving mothers have.

Stiles sat on his bed. Knees tucked under his chin, his long fingers clenched so hard that knuckles turned white, eyes hidden.

"You... you’re wearing it." His voice was small and vulnerable, but full of awe and... hope? Derek didn't dare to scent his chemosignals, he wanted it to be honest between them. No idea really where from that particular thought came, but he needed to be honest with Stiles. He needed that almost more than air.

"Yes." His own voice was so low that he felt it like a whisper.

"There’s a curse, you know? A sweater curse. Every knitter knows that. When you start to knit a sweater for your loved one, the relationship crumbles and dies," Stiles rambled. Derek knew him long enough to know that it’s always worth it to wait. "My Babcia started to knit one during the war, but her husband left her for a younger girl. She destroyed that cardigan and promised herself never knit one again. But she met Mietek."

"Hmm...?"

"Mietek. Is endearment from Mieczysław."

"Mieczysław, like you..."

"You know my name?! Dude, say it again!"

"Don't call me 'dude', Mieczysław."

"I died. I died right here, but, please, never ever call me that."

"Mietek?"

"You, Sourwolf, you are amazing. Let me finish my story?" Brown eyes shined with mirth and fingers were loose and pliant. "She met him and she fell in love. They got married and had my mother. Babcia knitted almost daily, but she never knitted a sweater for Dziaduś. He asked why, of course, and she told him about the curse. He laughed at her and asked for one. Eventually she knitted this one. And nothing happened. They lived together for a long time, and every time the sweater needed that, she mended it. First with matched colors and yarn, but later she decided to paint a story on it."

"Of love."

"Yes."

"You and your father. You mended it too."

"Yes, and Mom a little, she was never very good at it."

"And yet, you gave it to me."

"Der... if you... if I..."

"No. I want it. I would knit one for you, but I'm afraid of the curse." Derek smiled and reached for Stiles’ hand. They were standing so close. Derek closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. The scents. The aroma. Burned sugar and pumpkin spice. Rain in the forest. Dark, smooth scent of earth with powdery notes of bark. Sunny, shiny resin, like amber, like whiskey-colored eyes.  Love. Hope. Promise. All charmed into cinnamon notes and a sharper blend of spices. Fiery.

"Happy birthday, Der-Bear."

"Merry Christmas, Stiles."

The kiss was gentle. They had time.